Knowledge
"Mister Malfoy! Mister Malfoy, wake up! Kreacher has found something, Mister Malfoy!" Blearily, Draco opened his eyes blinking away sleep. Almost, he came so close to leaping from the bed when he saw the creature in front of him, before remembering where he was.
"What is it?" he grumbled, sitting on the bed in clothes too big for his body.
"Kreacher will show you: change, Mister Malfoy, and Kreacher will take you there!"
When Kreacher popped out the room with a crack, Draco stretched and stood, walking over to Harry's dresser. With no clothes of his own, Draco would have to settle for whatever the scruffy-haired boy had lying around.
Out of all his clothes, the boy had one button-up shirt: it was a chequered red, which didn't look worn. (Draco found out it wasn't, as the tag was still on.) Looking for trousers, Draco found all of them too short and too broad, so he settled for some shorts and a belt to keep them in place.
Dressed and ready to go, he timidly called for Kreacher to come back. "Are you ready for Kreacher to take you there, Mister Malfoy?" The thing said in his deep voice with some form of enthusiasm.
Intrigued, cautious, somewhat uncomfortable, Draco followed behind the little creature, into a room, isolated from the rest. It was then that he realised what room it was, but persisted, having an inhumane curiosity. But there was another person there: Remus Lupin. Today, he didn't look homeless! Instead, he wore a brown chequered shirt tucked into light trousers with a belt, hair not neat or slicked back, but not as bad as Harry's, either.
"Draco?" Remus asked, "Has Kreacher dragged you here, too?"
No, I have come back to the room I was held hostage in for shits and giggles. Draco would have said if he wasn't scared of him and his pointed stick.
He just nodded and looked towards the elf. "What is it you want to show us?" Draco asked Kreacher.
Kreacher almost smiled, which Draco learnt last night was probably a new thing, as he wondered to a wall with a sheet over it. Draco just thought it was because there was a hole in the wall.
Gradually, Kreacher pulled back the sheet, showing person after person from the left to the right. And on the right, was Narcissa Malfoy. She was depicted as having deep, bright blue eyes with the most blonde hair Draco had ever seen.
Next to her read Lucius Malfoy. Shocking resemblance. However, Lucius' photo had the hardest, emotionless grey eyes that seemed to scold you no matter what. Then, there was his long silver hair that went passed the stitches and not one was misplaced.
Under those were two names, one of which read Florian Malfoy. The boy's eyes a very light blue, but put next to Lucius someone would see the difference. And his hair was cut short, smartly flattened with light gel. It looked modern.
Finally, there was a name. No image, just a name. Draco Malfoy.
Taking cautious steps to the tapestry, Draco's hand reached the fabric and gently glided his soft finger tips over it. It was rough. When he reached the Malfoy's, Draco traced his mother's nose and mouth, his father's hair and eyes, then Florian's frame.
"Are these..." Began Remus, but Draco was too focused on what he was seeing.
When his fingers reached his name, ever so slightly above it was jagged and rocky, and somewhat stained his fingers grey.
"The Malfoy's, sirs." Kreacher told them, "Kreacher must probably prepare for Mister Potter's return without Master Sirius." He continued to mumble, "Poor Mistress having a criminal as a son."
Looking at it more, Draco wasn't the only one burnt off. Sirius Black, Andromeda Tonks. One under Walburga Black, the woman in the painting.
"They're my..."
"Your biological family, yes." Remus softly finished. There was a pause. "I taught your brother before, in his Third Year at Hogwarts."
Timidly, Draco asked, "What was he like?"
"He's..." Remus was trying to find a way to phrase it. If this was Sirius or Harry giving the explanation, they would call Florian every name under the sun. "troubled, misguided. He's trying to figure out who he is, finding his own route. I think he's trying to break away from becoming Lucius."
"Not a nice man?" Draco looked at him, slight tears shimmering in his eyes.
"Quite the opposite." Remus commented, joining Draco a little closer to tapestry.
"What do the burnt images mean?" Draco had an idea - a very good idea - but he just wanted to be sure.
Remus almost sighed, having to break this news to a kid, "Disownment. But all the best people have been. Like Sirius," He nodded towards the name, "He was disowned because he doesn't want a maniac to win a war. Then there's Dora," He nodded to another burnt out image, "She was disowned for wanting to marry because of love, wanting to marry a muggleborn."
Although it was meant to be comforting, Draco really didn't know what to think. On one hand, there was his biological family that he looked so much like and felt some deep, buried hope he could get to know. Then, there was his home. Sure, the children's home wasn't the best, but they raised him since he was a baby. And there was Lewis.
"Why was I disowned, then?" Draco asked Remus.
"Can you do magic, kid?" Now Draco had two options: (a) confess he can do some really cool things with his mind and his hands, or (b), lie, lie, lie, lie, lie.
"I never knew magic existed until yesterday." Commented Draco, voice not fluctuating and keeping eye contact. Draco just didn't get it. He can do magic, he can! He just... doesn't need a wand.
Remus left Draco alone for a while, but he soon came downstairs when his stomach grumbled. On the table were brioche buns, croissants, and some fruits. "Wasn't in the mood for something heavy this morning." Remus was seated at the table in the same seat he was yesterday.
Sat down, Draco took a plain croissant and squeezed lemon over it. Remus gave him a slightly weirded look. "Where are Harry and Sirius?"
Remus cleared his throat, "At the Ministry - the magical government building." Explained the wolf.
Sceptical, Draco let it slide knowing this Remus person was definitely lying but not wanted to push it. Draco spent the day in the library, reading all the books on magic. It was all so cool! There were spells for freezing people in place, several (possibly hundreds) ways to kill people, and basic stuff like cleaning and redecorating.
Multiple pairs of feet passed the doorway, and once or twice the door was opened. First by Tonks, and then by a strange man in all black with this long, greasy hair.
"Florian?" He questioned, his voice the deepest Draco had ever heard. Slightly intimidating, but very fitting for the guys get-up.
"Sorry to disappoint," Draco rolled his eyes first and then turned to face the man, "but I'm not Florian."
"Impossible."
"Again, sorry to disappoint, but it is." Remus came along then, breaking the man - Draco learnt was called Snape - from his shock and his denial. The man gave Draco a once over, and he gave the man the same look.
Everyone else left before Sirius and Harry came back. It was just Remus and Draco in the kitchen, once again, for lunch. Draco relayed what he learnt from the books: mostly the potions and the ingredients and what he interpreted could change/improve a potion.
Remus listened closely, barely believing a person who's only known of magic for a few days was able to interpret text this quickly.
The Floo ignited, and out stepped Harry and Sirius. Immediately, Remus stood, his chair legs scraping against the floor. "We won." Sirius exhaled through a smile.
Draco watched, not knowing what that meant. But Remus ran up and hugged both of the men as tightly as he could. "Twelve years..." He held Sirius by the shoulders, tears sprouting in his eyes, "I'm sorry I thought-"
Sirius waved him off, "Hey, it's all in the past now." Draco thought this was probably the best time to leave, so he and Harry sat awkwardly in the Living Room.
Harry noticed the clothes. With nothing else to wear, Harry knew Draco would be in his stuff. But seeing it is different. (He looked really good in Harry's clothes, according to Harry's mind that captured this for him to reflect on.)
"Why did you and Sirius go to the Ministry of Magic this morning?" It was casual conversation, the way he said it. However, Draco definitely did not mean it casually.
"It was nothing." Stuttered Harry Potter. Obviously, Harry was lying.
"Right, yes, and I'm Dot Browning."
"Who?"
Well, Draco was in shock. Everyone knew what Eastenders was. "A character from Eastenders?"
"East what?" The other boy was baffled. Both of them were baffled but for different reasons.
"Just-" Draco really felt like this was pointless, "Sirius is a criminal, correct?"
It looked like Harry didn't enjoy that description because he already looked ready to burst. "What would you know about it?" He bit back.
"Temper, temper." Draco tutted. This boy seriously has some anger issues. "And nothing, which is exactly my point."
"Why would I tell you anything?"
"Oh, nothing." Nonchalantly, Draco shrugged, "But Sirius and I are related: second cousins. And well, I have the right to know, seeing as I am family."
"Clearly, you need glasses, because the only thing I'm seeing is a pain in the fucking arse." He stormed off, going up the stairs and most likely into his room. The room Harry and Draco were sharing.
"Temper, temper." Muttered Draco.
Well, it didn't matter. Draco had his own theories. Theory one, Sirius was a murderer, that's why he was away for 'twelve years' as Remus pointed out, and why he somehow can afford a place like this - he was a hit man! That had to be it, Sirius had to be an assassin or something along those lines.
Thinking things through, Draco created a ball in his hands. A small bouncy ball of light he threw from one palm to the other and held like it was a cool, mini sun. Never had Draco questioned why he could do this, but he always felt that it made him superior to everyone else. That he could do these cool things, and nobody else could because he was better than them.
In school, he would cheat by using - what he knows now - wandless and wordless magic. He would trip people up randomly, it was funny. He would change the food, do things every muggle believes is fiction.
"Draco, we have someone here to see you." Remus popped his head around the door, and Draco immediately threw his hands behind his back like it was just in a cookie jar.
He wore a white dressing gown that blended with the greyness of his overgrown beard that touched the tip of the floor. He looked like a wise old owl. Draco side smiled at his own description.
"Hello, Draco Malfoy." Said the old man, voice frail and weak. A persona. But the ashen skin around a ring threw Draco off. "I'm very sorry for the circumstances you have found yourself in." Draco knew better than to open his mouth to someone that looked like held he a lot of power. "However, you must know that, due to what you have been exposed to, you cannot leave."
"Tonks informed me, yes." Draco nodded. "Why can you not just... wipe my memory?" It was something Draco was thinking about the whole day. Surely, they have a spell for it. Although he doesn't particularly want his memory wiped, he would also love to go back to normality.
"Because of who you are, Draco. You are a powerful wizard, one that deserves to be acknowledged.
"But, I am here to offer you a choice," the strange man carried on, and it peaked Draco's interests. Not that he would show it, instead he leant further back in his chair.
Out of the man's robes he pulled a letter, "This is a formal invite to attend Hogwarts, something I hope you do as you will be a great addition to the school."
"What is the other option?"
"You can stay here, in Grimmauld place." Draco wanted to ask this man for how long. Being stuck here... for the rest of his life? Draco didn't know if he belonged at this Wizarding School. Sure, he could do what they deemed 'magic', but was it really good enough?
"Who are you?"
"Albus Dumbledore, but I am Professor Dumbledore to the students."
"Albus Dumbledore," Draco wasn't a student, so it didn't matter if he called this man Professor or Albus, "I cannot do magic, why would there be a place for me at Hogwarts?"
"On the contrary, Mister Malfoy, on June 5th 1991, we sent two letters to Malfoy Manor: one for you, and one for your brother. Your father said you went to Durmstrang instead - a Wizarding school in Russia. You have magic, Mister Malfoy, and I have a feeling you know."
The man got up and left, leaving the letter on the coffee table. Draco had a lot to think about.